


Picking Up The Pieces

by TinkerBella



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerBella/pseuds/TinkerBella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm new to Grimm.  I've watched all of Season one, all but the last 3 eps of Season 2 and I have all but the last 2 eps of Season 3 to watch.  I have seen all of Season 4 and I adore the show and Nick is fabulous and I love how kick butt he is but he's also emotional, and he really shows us his journey from learning he's a Grimm to realizing this is who he's meant to be despite all the personal issues that come with it.    So this is my first GRIMM fic and I'm all about whumping Nick.  I love whump/angst and H/C.   </p>
<p>This story is a tag to Game Ogre and deals with Hank and Nick as partners and friends.  They have great working relationship and you can tell they are friends and have each other's backs.  And I love how Nick and Juliette love each other, so that's in here a bit too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up The Pieces

On the third day after Stark died, Nick was released from the hospital.

Hank was glad, glad to get a break from his one week, enforced, time off. Apparently Captain Renard felt he needed to take some time to deal with everything that had happened. Which meant for the first two days he split his time between visiting Nick at the hospital and drinking enough beer at night so he could get at least a couple of hours of sleep. 

Today he was meeting up with Juliette at the hospital so they could take Nick home. They both knew how he was about taking care of himself, so Hank had willingly offered to use his, enforced, time off to help Juliette take care of Nick. 

Not surprisingly, when he reached Nick's room, the younger man was arguing with the nurse about having to use a wheelchair to be discharged.

Striding over, Hank glared at Nick. "Sit your scrawny butt in the chair and let's go. You know it's the rules and as officers of the law, we obey the rules. Right?"

Pinning Hank with a glare of his own, albeit tempered by the gloss of pain in the blue-gray eyes, Nick sat down in the chair. It was a slow process and Hank could see his partner biting back a moan or two. But he stayed put, letting his friend do it on his own because that was Nick. The kid was independent to a fault sometimes. 

Juliette fussed a bit, once Nick was settled, but she knew enough to let him do it on his own as well. She did smooth his dark hair off his forehead, pressing a soft kiss to a spot that wasn't bruised or scraped, before letting the nurse push Nick out of the room.

It took about forty-five minutes between getting Nick into Hank's car, since Juliette had chosen to take a cab to the hospital this morning, knowing that Hank would pick them up, and the careful drive home. Getting Nick into the house was heartbreaking for them both. 

Pulling on his stubbornness, Nick made it inside and over to the couch on his own. Hank hovered on one side and Juliette on the other, but they were both terrified of hurting him further. 

Once he was settled, Juliette removed his shoes and covered Nick with a blanket. She then perched on the edge of the coffee table, unable to resist smoothing his hair back. "You really should go upstairs and to bed, Nick."

He managed a crooked smile. "I'm fine here, Juliette. I'm sick of being in bed. And before you try to argue with me, just remember the hospital released me. They wouldn't have done that if I wasn't okay."

Hank couldn't hold back a snort at that, shaking his head when Nick frowned at him. "Nice try, partner, but the doctor wanted to keep you for two more days. You batted those ridiculous eyelashes at her and got her to release you early, against her better judgement." 

"I did no such thing," Nick scoffed.

"You so did," Juliette countered, smiling at him fondly. "You use those beautiful puppy dog eyes to your advantage every chance you get."

Nick attempted to glare at them both and might have been a tiny bit successful, if he hadn't shifted the wrong way and ended up curled over and hissing in pain.

Juliette jumped up, reaching out to him. "What can I do, Nick? How can I help?"

"N-nothing. I'm...I'm good." Nick managed to mumble reassurance after a moment, his taut body finally relaxing back against the pillows. 

"You need to take your pain pills." Juliette lunged for her purse and fumbled through it. "I have a packet the hospital gave me and I'll run out later and get the prescription filled." Triumphantly she pulled out the silver packet of six tiny pills and held it aloft. "I'll get you some water." 

Before Nick could protest, she was gone. He looked at Hank. "Thanks for the ride home."

Hank nodded, wishing it wasn't so painful just looking at Nick. And it hurt him all the more because he was the reason Nick was suffering. That bastard, Stark, had gone after his partner to get to him. "I'm sorry about all this," he began.

"Don't!" Nick cut him off, eyes narrowed and tone curt. "Don't go there, Hank. None of this was your fault and it could have been so much worse. Just let it go."

"Easier said than done," Hank mumbled, grateful for Juliette's return. He actually found himself chuckling as she attempted to get Nick to take the pills.

Nick, stubbornly, refused insisting he was fine.

Juliette could stubborn right back with the best of them. "Don't make me get the horse sedative, Nick. I know how much you like needles."

"I'll take the pills when I need them," he shot back, cringing a bit at the mention of needles. "I'm trying to wean off the pain pills and, I swear, I'm not feeling too bad right now."

"On a scale of one to ten?" Juliette demanded.

Hank could see Nick pause to think about how to reply. He knew as well as Juliette did, that Nick always downplayed his injuries and his pain. He crossed his arms and waiting to see how this would play out.

But before Nick could reply, Juliette's cell phone rang. She cursed and yanked it out of her pocket, cursing again as she glanced at who was calling. "Work," she said, moving off into the dining room.

Hank watched her, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noting that everything was cleaned up and fixed up. Renard had told him he'd sent some people out to take care of things before Nick came home. They'd done a good job. Everything looked as it always had. Everything perfect and in it's place. 

"I have an emergency at work," Juliette stated, moving back to the couch. "There's no one else." She looked angry and worried with a side helping of frustrated.

"Go," Nick told her, carefully motioning to the door. "I'll be fine. I'm a big boy."

That got another chuckle out of Hank. "There are so many places I could go with that," he commented, ignoring Nick's glare as he turned to Juliette. "You go ahead, I'll stay with him."

Relief washed over Juliette in visible waves. "Thank you. I'll try not to be too long. Try to get him to take the pills and eat something. The doctor was concerned with his weight and he didn't eat much at the hospital."

"I'll take good care of him," Hank promised, offering Juliette a hug. He knew this wasn't easy for her. Seeing Nick so broken hurt them both. But he had also noticed the way she kept glancing around the rooms, almost skittish. Looking for the big bad to jump out at her again. Stark had invaded their home and had taken away her sense of security. Hank knew Nick felt the same way, his partner just hid it better. 

"Thank you so much." Juliette clung to Hank for a moment, before taking a deep and bracing breath and pulling herself together. She moved to Nick and kissed him gently, once against smoothing fingers through his dark hair. "I love you," she whispered.

Nick smiled warmly. "Love you too."

Juliette pulled back and shook a finger at him. "You be good."

"Always," Nick replied, pressing his right hand over his heart. He had the all American boy scout look about him, so he almost pulled it off. Almost.

"Nice try," Juliette drawled, although the effort on his part had the desired effect. She was able to smile as she grabbed her coat and purse and headed out the door.

 

When the door clicked shut behind her, Hank turned to Nick. "So, on a scale of one to ten, where is your pain level?" he demanded, because no way in hell was he going to let his partner suffer for no reason. Nick had suffered enough.

 

Huffing a careful sigh, Nick replied, "Maybe a four."

 

"Which translate into double that, so an eight. Time to take a pill before it hits the top of the scale," Hank stated, grabbing the pill packet and the water. He popped out a pill then held it out to his partner. "You will take it or I will make you take it."

 

"I kinda, sorta, hate you right now," Nick replied, as he accepted the pill with obvious reluctance. He then reached for the water glass, using only his right hand since his left shoulder was still heavily bandaged and he kept it cradled against his side. His hand trembled slightly as he took a drink.

 

Hank rescued the glass. "I have never been able to figure out why you like to suffer so much. I've never seen anyone hate taking pills as much as you do."

 

Nick looked like he wanted to shrug, but thought better of it. Smart move, because a dislocated shoulder and bruised ribs would not like shrugging much. "I guess I have a high threshold for pain. Always have."

 

"I've seen it at work," Hank conceded. Not that Nick tried to get hurt, but he could take one hell of a hit, shake it off, and keep going. One time, while chasing after a suspect, Nick had gotten hit by a car, rolling over the hood and hitting the pavement hard. Hank had been a few yards behind him and seen the whole thing and his heart had about stopped in his chest, only for Nick to jump up, stagger for a moment, then take off running again. Kid had caught the perp in the end too. "Doesn't mean you have to suffer," he continued. "You hungry?"

 

"Not now," Nick replied, carefully shifting against the cushions, obviously trying to find a position that didn't make him ache. 

 

Hank sat down in a nearby chair. "You need to eat something before Juliette gets back," he warned, because no way in hell was he going to go against her orders. She was one tough woman, and a good thing. Being with a cop wasn't easy, Hank's four ex-wives would be the first to tell her that too. But she had saved Nick's life, which brought Hank right back around into wallowing in guilt again. Stark would never have gone after Nick, invading his house and putting him and Juliette both in danger if it hadn't been for Hank.

 

Nick heaved a careful sigh. "Please stop wallowing so hard, it's annoying," he stated glibly, big eyes locked on Hank's face, the blue-gray orbs brimming with understanding. "What happened, happened because of Stark. It was NOT your fault. Got it?"

 

"I hear ya," Hank allowed, scrubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away his weariness. It didn't work. "My head knows the facts, but my heart's not listening. You could have died, Nick."

 

"But I didn't," Nick countered, scowling. "You know the drill in our line of work. Accept and move on. Stark is dead and I'm alive and kicking. Move on, Hank."

 

A loud snort broke out of Hank. "You're alive, partner...but not exactly kicking."

 

Nick rolled his eyes then winced, carefully rubbing at his undamaged temple. "I can still kick your ass if you don't knock off the guilt trip."

 

"You couldn't kick my ass on a good day, partner," Hank countered, feeling a bit lighter at Nick's words and it felt good to tease each other. "You need to bulk up if you even want to dream about being able to kick my ass."

 

"In your dreams," Nick shot back, making a face because he knew it was a lame comeback. 

 

Hank reached for the remote. "Feel up to some tv or do you want to take a nap? I'm leaning towards the last one because you look like you're done in."

 

Scowling, Nick shifted and slowly pushed himself to his feet. "I feel like a shower. I smell like hospital, among other things, and I'm starting to offend myself."

 

"Do you honestly think you can stand up and stay awake long enough to take a shower? Not to mention the fact that your shoulder is wrapped," Hank countered, rising to his feet and openly hovering around Nick as he slowly made his way to the stairs.

 

"Watch me," Nick replied, gritting his teeth as he hit the first step. 

 

Hank was right behind him. "This is a really bad idea, man. Juliette is not going to be happy."

 

Nick scoffed at him. "I take full responsibility for my actions, Hank. Don't worry about it. I'm good." He made it to the top of the stairs and headed straight into the bedroom for clean clothes, pulling out an old tee shirt, soft sweat pants, thick socks and boxer-briefs. Which clothes in hand he went into the bathroom. Before he closed the door he said, "The Doctor said I could shower, so I have permission, and the nurse showed Juliette how to re-wrap my shoulder. It's all good, ok? I'll be out soon."

 

"You have ten minutes," Hank warned. "Or I'm coming in."

 

"I'm locking the door," Nick countered as he loudly turned the lock.

 

Hank snorted. "We both know I can kick it down. Ten minutes."

 

Nick was quiet a moment, focused on getting undressed without passing out. He struggled with his shirt, even though it was a button-down, but removing the wrap from his shoulder was the worst. He felt out of breath by the time he got it off and called out, "Give me twenty minutes, Hank!" Because he knew it would take time to shower and twice as much time to get dressed again.

 

"Twenty minutes," Hank confirmed, pacing outside the door. He had started tracking the time the moment the shower turned on. That was ten minutes gone. The ten minutes since it turned off had been filled with quiet cursing and muffled thumps, making Hank extremely nervous. At exactly twenty minutes later he pounded on it with his fist. "Nick? You all right in there?"

 

"I'm fine," Nick replied, after only a moment's hesitation. "I'm almost done. Give me a minute."

 

One minute and seventeen seconds later the door opened and a damp and exhausted looking Nick came out. His hair was still wet and he was sans tee shirt. Hank took pity on him, snagging the towel he clutched in one hand before guiding Nick over to the bed and making him sit. "I'm going to help you whether you like it or not," he informed his partner.

 

Nick looked surprisingly grateful, but still countered with, "We tell no one."

 

"Deal." Being careful, Hank used the towel to dry Nick's hair as best he could, chuckling at the way the dark strands stuck up all over the place. Bed head in the extreme, not that Nick would care at this moment, he looked ready to tip over and fall asleep. Tossing the towel aside, he grabbed the tee shirt and asked, "You want this on?"

 

"Nope." Nick blinked at Hank with heavy-lidded eyes even as he scooted up towards the pillows. He carefully laid down on his good side and closed his eyes. "Sleeping now," he mumbled.

 

Hank considered trying to ease the covers down so he could pull them over Nick, but figured a blanket would do the trick for now. His partner was already out cold. So he draped two blankets over him then he made himself comfortable in a nearby chair, ready and willing to keep vigil over Nick.

 

* * *

 

The nap lasted three hours, at which time pain woke Nick up and he consented to taking a pain pill, which made Hank happy and worried him at the same time. He was arguing about Nick coming down stairs when Juliette arrived home. Hank called out to tell her where they were and she looked relieved to see Nick resting when she entered the room. 

 

Hank decided to fill her in before Nick could gloss things over. "He took a shower, took a nap, and just took a pain pill, in that order."

 

"Do you want me to wrap your shoulder now or after the pain pill kicks in?" Juliette asked Nick, as she moved to stand beside the bed.

 

"Now, get it over with," Nick replied, grimacing as he struggled to sit up straighter. 

 

Juliette nodded. "I let everything on the side table down stairs, I'll be right back." She pressed a kiss to Nick's forhead then quickly left the room.

 

Which left Hank alone with Nick again. He studied his partner, taking in the pale face and pain-filled eyes, his own eyes roving over the battered torso and swollen shoulder and he felt the guilt, he had been trying to keep at bay, wash over him again in heavy waves. "I am so sorry this happened to you, man," Hank blurted out.

 

"If you apologize one more time I'm going to get my gun and shoot you," Nick threatened, glaring at Hank. "I'll be back to work in a couple of days - "

 

"Two weeks and on desk duty, if you're lucky," Hank interjected, not wanting Nick to get ahead of himself.

 

Rolling his eyes, Nick sighed and said softly, "Stark is dead...let the rest of it go." 

 

Hank wished it were that easy, but he knew it didn't help either of them to beat a dead horse. So he changed direction a bit. "I wish I knew who killed Stark. I mean, who has an Elephant gun and just happened to know where we'd be?" He gazed at Nick suspiciously.

 

"You know I was in the hospital, man," Nick countered. 

 

"I know you didn't fire the gun," Hank began, only to be interrupted by Juliette's return. So he dropped the subject to follow orders, which mean supporting Nick while Juliette wrapped his shoulders and kept an on going commentary about her vet emergency to keep Nick distracted from the pain.

 

When it was over they were all relieved and Juliette ordered Nick under the covers while she went downstairs to make dinner.

 

Only Nick grabbed her hand and pleaded, "Can't we order pizza and watch a movie? I really am tired of lying in bed." He batted his ridiculously lush lashes at her and, not surprisingly, Juliette caved.

 

"Pizza and a movie it is," she agreed. "But it's straight to bed the moment it's over."

 

"Deal." Nick grinned, happy to get his way. 

 

Juliette mock-glared at him as she pulled out her phone. "I'll call in the pizza. Hank, will you help Nick downstairs to the couch?"

 

Nick replied before Hank could. "I can make my own way down stairs, thank you very much." To prove his point he slid off the bed and reached for his tee-shirt, only for Juliette to snatch if from him.

 

"Don't be foolish, Nick," she scolded. "I dug out your old flannels, they won't stress your shoulder as much getting into them." That said she grabbed a blue and gray flannel off the dresser and helped him put it on.

 

"You're totally channeling Monroe," Hank teased, ignoring the glare Nick sent his way. 

 

Juliette kissed away Nick's scowl. "Go downstairs with Hank, I'm calling for the pizza right now." She turned away as she spoke, tapping in the number.

 

Hank gestured for Nick to proceed him out of the room, sticking close as his partner navigated the stairs, and trying not to hover when Nick claimed a spot on the couch. His mind was distracted by their previous conversation. Nick had an alibi for the time Stark was shot, no doubt about that, but he had never outright denied knowledge or ownership of the elephant gun used to take Stark out. Hank was going to stew over that for a while and, once Nick was back on his feet, they were going to talk.

 

For now he was content to eat pizza and watch a movie with his friends, grateful that they were all alive to enjoy the time together.


End file.
